Observation: I don’t do well on less than eight hours of sleep. It’s like I’m notallthere. Here. Right now. I’m notallhere.
Been going to bed at a reasonable time, somewhere between 10-11pm every night, but recently I’ve been having trouble actually falling asleep. So many thoughts and ideas and anticipations and possibilities. A life of possibilities.
(CONTROVERSIAL OBSERVATION: this is one of the best songs ever written)
I think it’s good that I’m aware of this, the trouble of the falling of the sleep. First step to fixing problem is identifying problem, or something. And the solution, of course, is to come back to the breath. The neverendingpath of thoughts and ideas–the torrent of words and dreams and fantasies constantly flooding my mind–that shit is useful at times, but it’s not real. What’s real is the body. What’s real is the breath.
Come back to the breath. Breathe.
(Or don’t, and continue fantasizing hollow fantasies wonderfully spectacularly unreal fantasies future thoughts fantasies wow, and have trouble sleeping. Your choice.)